


Heart or Hospital

by 2amEuphoria



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: But today is not the day, F/M, FWB turned lovers, I said I was on hiatus but, Requested by anon, SOMEDAY I will do some serious editing, WHEN THE FALL FINALE HIATUS HITS, been pretty sleep-deprived twice while I wrote this so I apologize for any mistakes, now I will resume hiatus position, thus I just had to do it to em
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21701722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2amEuphoria/pseuds/2amEuphoria
Summary: "It was routine. Procedure."Requested by Anon. Prompt: FWB turned lovers.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell
Comments: 10
Kudos: 113





	Heart or Hospital

**Author's Note:**

> “I can’t commit to a thing, be it heart or hospital”
> 
> Requested by Anon. I was pretty tired when I wrote this, but I hope I did you proud!
> 
> Also, we can pretend that everything up to most of 1x10 happened, minus my sweet bby angel Malcolm getting kidnapped because I... Do not have the mental energy to write about how trauma impacts him anymore than it did before the end of that episode. Thanks.

It was routine. Procedure.

Every Tuesday night she found herself in his bed. 

Every Tuesday night, since the Tuesday night 3 weeks ago. The night when they had stayed up late working a case, shared too much vulnerable information, and somehow ended up sharing each other’s bodies in his apartment.

She doesn’t know how it happened; he doesn’t either. They never tried to figure out the catalyst, and maybe it was better that way. 

Because _this_ way, at least, it was distant, but not completely detached. Interpersonal, without having to delve deep into their intrapersonal feelings. 

She had issues with trust, and he had “other issues,” as he put it. So they decided that it was better _this_ way, every Tuesday night after work. They’d either leave together discreetly, or she’d leave a half hour earlier and wait for him in her car (pretending to be “busy” talking on her phone), or he’d leave early and she’d meet up with him an hour later. They shuffled exit plans and excuses, whatever it took to keep _this_ a secret. 

Gil would be disappointed-in both of them-if he found out, they figured. Disappointed not because they were technically co-workers, but because he knew both of them well enough to know that this may not be the best idea. Neither of them had the courage to talk about their ideas as to _why_ he’d think it wasn’t smart for either of them, though. That would require too much ruminating, too much “mess.”

JT couldn’t find out either. He wouldn’t be disappointed, but he’d tease the shit out of them, no matter the outcome.  
And Edrisa couldn’t find out, Dani mentioned, “because she flirts with you… I don’t want her to feel awkward or anything.” Malcolm only nodded in response to her rationale.

Their Tuesday nights together continued. A routine, a procedure.

_____________

Lying against his chest one Tuesday night, looking up at him, she realized something.

First, she adored looking into his eyes-blue as glaciers, a transparent window to his soul-and she found herself staring into them day after day-for information, but also for reassurance, for comfort, for empathy. 

Second, she realized that while she adored looking into his eyes, she adored looking at them just as much when they were closed; when he’d finally drifted to sleep, and those eyes finally had a chance to rest.

_____________

It was Tuesday again. Dani finishes a report and gets up to leave at 5:30, passing Malcolm as she heads for the door. They purposefully keep their eyes from wandering towards one another; they’ve been trying not to make too much eye contact when leaving, that’s how worried they’ve are about “getting caught.”

She’s gotten used to pretending to talk on the phone: get in her car, make sure all the windows are all rolled up, turn up the radio, and pretend. Feign happiness, frustration, mild amusement; it changes depending on who she pretends she’s talking to.

She yelps when she hears a knock against her windshield 10 minutes later. It’s JT, looking just as confused as she is. 

“I thought I saw your car still here. What the hell are you doing?”

“Um, talking to an aunt.” She gives him a quick smile, sticking her phone in her lap between her legs so he can’t see her black, locked screen. She worries, however, that he already has.

“I didn’t know you still spoke to anyone in your family,” JT raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, well, I do. What’s your problem?” _Yeah , just act pissed,_ she thinks to herself. _That’ll scare him off._

“You know I don’t hang my ‘detective hat’ up when I leave, Powell,” he says, a smile beginning to play at the corners of his lips. “I’m onto you.”

“Oh, I’m sure Tally loves that,” she replies, the sarcasm dripping in her voice. “Bye, JT.” She rolls up her window and drives out of the parking lot, but JT stays where he is. She sighs, realizing she can’t end the stalemate unless she _really_ leaves. She continues down the road, pushing down the anxiety brewing in her stomach.

She’ll just find a place to pull over and text him. She’ll wait somewhere else and turn around to get him. Whatever she has to do. She knows where both Gil and JT live; she can find roads neither of them have been down before to wait in, or places neither of them would dream of being on a work night. Whatever had to happen to keep this tryst a secret.

Whatever it takes to keep the others from finding out, from questioning them, from bringing up that dreaded “F” word: feelings.

He ends up taking a cab home. Gil decided to stay late, and after a few anxious text exchanges they decide it’s better if she doesn’t return to the station. She has a key to his place now, so she waits there, running her fingers along his black leather couch while she thinks about a variety of things, including how happy she is that she’ll at least get to fall asleep in his arms tonight. She’s been waiting since last week for this.

He comes in around 7:00, taking off his jacket, and she doesn’t realize until a few steps in that she’s practically _running_ to him. She realizes this and slows down. She’s not his girlfriend, not his wife, not even his partner. She shouldn’t be this relieved that he’s come home.

Instead, she blurts out a string of apologies, ranting about “hardass JT” being too nosey and that Gil “needs to learn to take a break.” He stops her mid-sentence, silencing her lips with his own.

“You have nothing,” he says between kisses, “to apologize for.” He kisses her forehead. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

Their eyes meet, and for a second they don’t realize how deep into the “F” word territory he’d just gotten. He looks down at his feet, clearing his throat and smiling. “Now I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

“It’s okay.”

His lips meet hers again, this time with a hunger for something more. And they return to their routine, their procedure, without another moment to consider what just transpired between them.

_____________

He traces his fingertips across her when he can’t sleep.

From the curve of her lips, down her jaw, along her collar bone and then down her shoulder, finally resting at her hip. 

She’s beautiful. Beyond beautiful. But also brilliant at interrogating suspects, critical and thorough when writing reports, and, though he tries not to think about it, she’s really, _really_ cute when she’s eating French fries and examining evidence at the precinct.  
He can’t lie to himself; he thinks about the “F” word often, though he wishes he didn’t.

_____________

“You notice anything different about Powell?” JT asks Gil one Tuesday morning.

“I’m sorry?” Gil gives him a quizzical look.

“She’s been, a little…off her rocker lately, I dunno. Frazzled. It’s weird.”

“Well I don’t see it,” Gil laughs, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe you’re the one who’s cracking up, not her.”

JT rolls his eyes, turning to look out Gil’s office window at Dani, who was more fixated on her phone than on the paperwork in front of her. 

“You think she’s seeing someone?” JT offers.

“Dani?” Gil chuckles again. “Whoever he is, good luck to him then.”

Malcolm looks up suddenly from his desk, making eye contact with JT through the window. He offers the detective a quick smile before returning to the profile he was working on. 

JT shakes his head and walks out of Gil’s office.

_____________

Eight weeks. That’s how long they’ve followed procedure.

Well, except for this time. Because this time they’ve screwed up.

It was Wednesday morning, sometime after 10:30am, and they’d _both_ slept in. 

Dani remained fast asleep, but Malcolm was awake, admiring how peaceful she looked. A thin stream of light came in through a slit between the blackout curtains he’d put in (again, another ridiculous measure…just in case JT or someone else from work decided to try spying on them), but he assumed it was maybe 6 or 6:30, and they’d have another hour before they’d have to get up and go to work (at different times, obviously).

Her eyelids fluttered, and her doe eyes open to meet his. The smile she gives him made his heart leap, as did the way she sighed and snuggled closer to him until their noses were touching. 

“’Morning,” she murmurs, a smile spreading across her face.

“’Morning.” He tucks a few curls behind her ear and kisses her.

“What do you want for breakfast?” She’d asked him. “It’s my turn, I think.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I’ll spot us today. Don’t worry. You look like you could use a bit more shut-eye.”

She groaned. “Only if you’ll stay here with me,” she pleaded, scooting in closer to him before realizing what she’d done. Instantly she wishes she could put that sentence back in her mouth, but Malcolm just smiled and stared back at her in response. She wondered if that was a good thing or not.

Trying to avoid what she’d done, she stared past him at the sun coming in through the curtains. And then it hit her.

“What time is it?”

“Uh…” Malcolm’s hand fumbles around for his phone on the bedside table before realizing it wasn’t there. 

That was when he found it on the floor, and realized it was nearly 11.

The next 20 minutes felt like a blur: they both cursed when they realized what time it was, then flew around his apartment trying to get ready, then remembered that they couldn’t show up at the precinct at the same time.

“You go,” she offers. “I’ll go back to my place, shower, and then head in. I’ll tell them I had a migraine or something.” 

“Dani-”

“You’re the one who’s consulting; it doesn’t look as bad if you come in later. But Gil will have my head if I don’t at least look like I have a decent excuse.”

He throws his coat on and kisses her forehead before rushing out the door. A half-second later he pops back in, with a quick “could you feed Sunshine for me?” to which she responded that she was already on top of it. 

“Ah, you’re the best. Don’t know what I’d do without you,” he remarks before shutting the door one more time.

It takes her a full hour before she finally leaves his place to return to her own. A full hour, because after getting ready, after feeding Sunshine and packing up her things, she sits on the edge of his bed, tears brimming as she tries not to cry, tries not to realize that she’s in _deep_ now. It’s irrevocable. Because she had wanted nothing more than to just say “screw it” and stay in bed all day with him. To not have to worry about going into work at separate times. To not have to hide their meetings from everyone. To not have to ignore the “F” word. 

She ends up calling Gil around 2:30, saying she’d had a migraine and couldn’t even look at her phone screen without it making her head feel worse. And Gil somehow accepts it.

She sends one text to Malcolm, only after she’d called Gil: “I’m sorry.”

_____________

Nine weeks in, and she wasn’t coming over anymore. She wasn’t even coming in to work.

She took two weeks of vacation-the only vacation she's ever taken since she started working for the NYPD-and wasn’t speaking to anyone. 

But he knew her. He knew exactly where she was.

_____________

It was Wednesday morning, nine weeks in, and he’d only knocked twice on her apartment door before it swung open and they were face to face again. 

“Hi,” she murmurs, and his heart breaks when he realizes her eyes didn’t light up at the sight of him the way they used to.

“Hi. We’re all worried about you. Can I come in?”

“ _‘We’re’_ all worried?” she repeats, incredulous, “or just you?”

“Well, I’m certainly the ring leader of the ‘worried committee.’”

She steps aside, gesturing for him to enter. 

Her place is a wreck. So is she, honestly-her curls, clothes, and personality lacked any of the vitality that usually possessed. 

He decides to just come out and say it. “Dani…Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

She gives him a fake smile, her eyes peering down the drain of her kitchen sink to avoid his gaze. “Funny you should ask that.” She then adjusts her posture, standing up straight, crossing her arms. “I can’t do this anymore.”

His brows knit together. “Do what? Life?” She sighs and shakes her head, which frustrates the shit out of him. “Us? Is that what you mean?”

“ _Yes,_ thank you,” she snaps. “God, you can break down a crime scene in less than five minutes but anything else…”

“Then _help_ me, Dani, jeez. Because I thought everything was fine. It’s not?”  
“ _No!_ ” She screams. “No, it’s not anymore!”

“Then _why?_ ” He can’t help but shout back at her.

“Because I have _feelings_ for you now, Malcolm! That’s fucking why!”

He blinks a few times in disbelief, to which she rolls her eyes and stares back down at the sink again. He can tell she’s trying not to cry. It’s a fight she loses.

She sniffs, covering her eyes with her hand so he can’t see her tears. “I’m so stupid… This wasn’t going to work. I knew it, and I _let_ it happen anyway.” Tears form in his own eyes when he hears her voice crack. “I’m stupid, I’m so…fucking…stupid.”

He’s at a loss for words, and she knows this.

“And you don’t even know how to answer me, do you? Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

“Dani, I-”

She starts to sob, her body beginning to collapse in on itself. He catches her, and she cries into his suit, both hands gripping his shirt with the little energy she had left. He keeps his arms around her until she backs away from him, wiping her face.

“Just leave, Malcolm, _please._ ”

His feet take him out the door, but his thoughts stay with her. As to where his heart is, he has no idea.

_____________

“I don’t even know what to do, what to say.”

Gabrielle sighs and stares down at her notebook. She’s relieved that Malcolm was finally being honest with her about one of his current stressors, but this wasn’t her area of expertise.

“If you’re asking for my help, Malcolm, I just want to make it clear with you that adult relationships-especially…complicated adult relationships-isn’t something I have much clinical experience with.”

He leans against his hand and closes his eyes. “I’ll take anything, at this point.”

“You haven’t talked about this to anyone else, have you?”

He sighs, nodding. “We didn’t want Gil to find out. Or anyone else at the precinct… And I didn’t tell my mother or my sister because I don’t exactly trust them to keep their mouths shut.”

“I…see,” Gabrielle replies. “Well, I think what’s going on here an ultimatum. You can either end whatever you have with Dani, and risk ruining your friendship, or you can move forward and be in a committed, serious relationship with her-which involves telling everyone you know, and…” She trails off. “Is there something else going on?”

“Well, yeah,” he lets out an exasperated laugh. “Have you met me? The night terrors, the awful childhood trauma I can’t seem to let go of, not to mention the last time I was trying to be serious with someone I nearly sliced her to shreds?”

“It sounds to me like you’re afraid of being vulnerable. Correct me if I’m wrong, but everything you just mentioned to me… Seems more like reasons you tell yourself you can’t be with someone than anything.”

He clicks his tongue once, before nodding, his eyes trailing around the room.

“Do you have feelings for her?” She asks.

“Of course I do,” he exhales. “But that’s the problem. _I’m_ the problem. She doesn’t deserve this; she doesn’t deserve me.”

Gabrielle shuts her notebook and leans forward, her gaze demanding his. “Malcolm, if you want to let this go, you can. But only do it because it’s something you genuinely want, not because you’re keeping yourself from being happy.”

When he got up to leave, Gabrielle’s hand flew out to stop him. “You told me once how Dani treats you like you’re not broken. It sounds to me like she _sees_ you, all of you, and cares for you anyway.

Everyone has dark parts of themselves, Malcolm. Some more dark than others. But if someone sees that darkness but chooses to be with you anyway…And you embrace their darkness, as well as their light… Just consider that.”

He leaves without another word.

_____________

It’s been ten weeks now. Two since the procedure was broken. And now the end of Dani’s vacation.

She comes back in the precinct looking as if nothing ever happened, but he knows her better than that. Some of the light has returned in her eyes, but only because of the passion for her job; there’s no light when she happens to make eye contact with him.

That’s it. He can’t stand to see her like this anymore. He can’t stand _being_ like this anymore.

“Hey Gil,” Malcolm calls from his desk. Gil pops his head out, confused. “Can Dani and I use your office for a second?”

From her desk a few feet away, Dani shoots up out of her chair, glaring at him. 

“Um…Sure,” Gil replies, stepping out and keeping the door open. “Go ahead.”

Malcolm walks in, unsure if she’ll even follow. Gil remains in the doorway, staring back at him. 

“Is everything okay, kid?” He asks.

“Well, not exactly. But it’s going to be.”

Dani suddenly appears, arms crossed so tight it appears like she’s choking herself. She shakes her head at Gil as she steps inside the office. Gil raises his eyebrows, mouths “good luck” to Malcolm, and closes the door.

His gaze shifts from the door back to Dani. He sighs.

“You…look like you’re either about to cry, slap me, or pull your gun on me,” he says, “and any or all of those options would be understandable right now.”

“Yeah,” she spits back, “you bet they would. You’ve basically blown our cover. Nice job. I just can’t believe you had the nerv-“

“I have feelings for you, too.” 

She blinks. “Excuse me?”

“I have for a while. But I’m a coward, of course, with everything that isn’t something that’s going to immediately get me killed. I’ll put a loaded gun to my head by accident but I can’t even fess up to someone that I care about that I want to be something more with them.”

“I swear to God, Malcolm, if you’re screwing with me-”

“But that’s the thing, Dani; I’m _not._ ” He tries to step towards her, and she steps back in response. “I don’t do this relationship thing often. Obviously,” he lets out a breathless laugh. “It’s because I’m scared. I’m _terrified._ Because that means I have to be vulnerable, honest, about every part of me. And not everyone wants to see that.” He sighs. “I’ve tried the relationship thing a handful of times, and every time it ended because of me. I’m not present enough. I’m not affectionate enough. Just, not enough.” Her face softened, but he continued.

“And you know what? I’ve held onto that. For a long, long time. Until you came along and showed me that I’m actually enough, just how I am.” 

Both their eyes were watering at this point.

“And I know you have issues with trust, so I thank you for trusting me. I’m sure it wasn’t easy. And I wish I could’ve followed by your example sooner.” He wiped his eyes.

“I don’t want to have to hide anymore. Not from anyone here, not from you, not even from myself,” he went on. “But only if you don’t want to hide anymore, too. We both have to be honest here.”

For the first time in weeks, she genuinely smiled at him, and the light that he’d missed came back into her eyes as she met his gaze. 

She crosses the office to finally be in his arms again, this time with tears of relief instead of frustration streaming down her face.

“Let’s not hide anything anymore, then,” she murmurs against his ear. She leans back to look at him, and they laugh a little when they realize their noses are touching, the same as the last time they were in bed together. “I won’t hide if you won’t,” she says before kissing him.

The office door flung open then, and they both looked to find Gil standing there, though he was too far away to be the one who actually opened the door.

That was JT, whose hand was still on the knob.

He looked at Dani, then at Malcolm. 

“I knew it. But now I owe Tally twenty bucks,” he grumbled before shutting the door.

**Author's Note:**

> *NOTE: at the end, JT says “I knew it” but that he owes his wife 20 bucks. He and Tally made bets on who Dani was probably seeing: Tally thought it was Malcolm, and though JT suspected that too deep down, he bet that it was ultimately someone else. We’ve only seen a few minutes of Tally Tarmel on the show, but I just know that woman knows everything. She’s always right.
> 
> Soundtrack for this one-shot:
> 
> Bang the Doldrums-Fall Out Boy  
> When the Party's Over-Billie Eilish  
> Superficial Love (Single Version)-Ruth B.


End file.
